


Phineas's Christmas Carol

by foobar137



Category: Phineas and Ferb
Genre: And that they aren't dead yet, F/M, Future Fic, If you know A Christmas Carol you know who dies, Inspired by A Christmas Carol, Phineas as Scrooge, Visions of character funerals, Yeah I know it's a stretch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-11
Updated: 2013-12-15
Packaged: 2018-01-04 08:00:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1078515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foobar137/pseuds/foobar137
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Christmas Carol, starring Phineas as Scrooge. (Yes, I know, he doesn't seem the type. Run with it.) Phineas is a bitter, lonely forty-year-old man, avoiding his family and trying to make sure he's got enough money to support the family he'll never have now, until his late father comes along to tell him that three spirits will visit him on this Christmas Eve...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Christmas Eve

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, Phineas is kinda out-of-character here. That’s part and parcel of putting him in the Scrooge role. I’ve tried to explain how and why his personality changed.
> 
> On the ‘Major Character Death’ tag: if you’re familiar with A Christmas Carol, you know that Christmas Yet To Come involves a funeral or two. I debated whether to include the tag, but eventually decided to on the grounds that it may be important to a reader.
> 
> Rated T for themes and for mildly offensive language (damn, ass).

Phineas Flynn closed the door on the office of Flynn Technologies. The '& Fletcher' on the door had been crudely crossed out fifteen years ago, when he'd been a young and foolish man of twenty-five who'd learned the hard way that not even a brother could be trusted, and he'd never gotten around to replacing it with a new sign. That would cost money.

Tomorrow was Christmas. He supposed he should stay home; while he didn't really care about the holiday, nobody he'd want to do business with would be in the office. He might come in anyway. The house was too empty to stay in all day.

He walked down the street, pulling his coat around him to protect himself from the cold snows of a December in Danville. He saw the Salvation Army bell-ringer ahead at the corner, and crossed the street to avoid him. Even if his initial reason for being tight with his money was gone, he still held on to all of it. It was habit now, but long-held habit holds a life of its own.

A flash of red hair on the street coming toward him looked familiar; he considered trying to hide, but it was too late. She'd seen him, and would insist on talking to him.

"Hi, Phineas," Candace said, juggling packages. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Candace," he said grumpily.

"I know you don't want to come to Mom and Dad's tomorrow," she said hopefully, "but if you'd like a smaller family Christmas, you're welcome to come visit us tomorrow morning. Amanda's visiting with her new husband, and the boys are back from college. We'd all love to see you."

"I'll think about it," he said hesitantly.

She frowned. "That means no, doesn't it? We miss you. You're turning into Scrooge on us."

"It means I'll think about it, Candace."

"I suppose that's the best I could hope for," she said with a sigh. "Hope to see you tomorrow, then," she said, and headed on her way.

_Scrooge, eh? Bah, humbug._

Shaking his head, Phineas walked the rest of the way home. The holographic door-knocker flickered to life, showing his face as he approached, and then his face changed, replaced by a similar one with blonde hair. He blinked and stared at it again, but it was back to normal. Frowning, he pressed his palm to the unlock pad, and the door swung open.

He sat down in his chair before the fireplace and said, "Ok, house. Activate fireplace." The fireplace turned on, quickly settling to a calming flame. He stared into the flames, wondering at the hallucination. Maybe Ferb had hacked into his door-knocker somehow. He hadn't seen him in person for...he wasn't sure how long. Mom and Dad were too busy with their grandchildren to have much time for him - Candace and Jeremy's three, and Ferb and Vanessa's twins. Candace was the only one who really tried to keep in contact now.

With a grump, Phineas sat back in his chair. _It's lonely here, and I'm seeing things. Maybe I should just get a dog._

It would have to be a small dog to fit in his house here, though. Something like a chihuahua would be just right, but that always made him think of...her.

He wondered how she was doing. Hopefully she'd found the happiness he hadn't been able to give her, even if it came without the security he'd worked so hard to offer her.

 _I should eat something,_ he thought. Sighing, he walked into the kitchen and found a package of ramen. "Ok, house, boil two cups of water," he said, and a robot arm pulled a pot out of a drawer, placed it in the sink, and turned on the faucet just long enough to put two cups in. The arm picked up the pot again and put it on the stove, turning on the burner.

He stared at the package of ramen, wondering why he ate so much of it. Its sole saving grace was that it was cheap. He didn't really need to save the money, but like so much of his life now, it was just habit. Maximize the money in, minimize the money out, so that he could be sure he had enough to support a family. That hadn't even been necessary when Flynn & Fletcher Technologies had been worth thousands of dollars, but now that Flynn Technologies was worth tens of millions, it really was overkill. Especially since, he figured, it was so unlikely he'd ever find someone to share that wealth with again.

* * *

He dozed in his chair in front of the fireplace, until a voice awoke him.

"Phineas," an unfamiliar man's voice said.

Phineas sat up. He saw nothing unusual in the fire-lit room. With a shrug, he sat back in his chair again.

"Phineas. My son," the voice said.

A glowing form was appearing by the fireplace. It coalesced into a translucent shape, looking like Phineas, but younger and gentler, with blonde hair instead of red.

Phineas’s eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”

The spirit covered its mouth with a ghostly hand and made harsh breathing noises, then said in a deep voice, “Phineas...I am your father.” Then it pulled its hand away, laughing. “I’ve always wanted to do that. I never got a chance to while I was alive.”

Phineas scootched back in his chair. “You're not Lawrence. Lawrence is still alive. Somebody would have told me.”

“Not Lawrence, Phineas. Timothy. Your biological father.”

“Why are you here?”

“I was granted a boon in response to Candace’s prayers. One last chance to save you, Phineas.”

“I don’t need saving.”

The ghost looked around him. “Could have fooled me. You will be visited by three spirits tonight, Phineas.”

Phineas rolled his eyes. “A Christmas Carol? Really?”

“They’re a package deal, okay? Besides, you really need all three. Await the first after midnight,” Timothy said, fading away.

Phineas shook his head. He must have dozed off in the chair and had a bad dream. He’d have to remember not to have that rarebit-flavored ramen just before bed again. “Ok, house. Turn off the fireplace.” The fireplace turned off, darkening the room, and Phineas went upstairs to bed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rarebit, aka Welsh Rarebit or Welsh Rabbit, is a cheese-sauce-on-toast dish notorious for causing bizarre dreams. I suspect that rarebit would not be a popular flavor of ramen.


	2. Christmas Past

Phineas awoke with a start. He was not alone in his bedroom. A pale figure in a white robe sat at the end of the bed. “Go away,” Phineas said, pulling the covers over his head.

The covers flew off the bed at a gesture, and another gesture from the figure yanked Phineas to his feet. “Come with me,” the figure said in an odd voice that was neither male nor female. “We have much to see. I am the Spirit of Christmas Past.”

Phineas glared at the ghost. “We really have to do this?”

“Come with me,” the ghost said, and they were suddenly elsewhere. Phineas saw himself, and all his friends, aged 11. Ferb was there, and so was Isabella, and he saw the look in her eyes as she gazed at his 11-year-old self. _Why did it take me so long to realize?_  

Santa arrived, and told everyone of the wonderful letter Phineas had written. How he wanted to be like Santa, just for one day. The older Phineas shook his head at his younger self’s naivety.

“I was a kid,” the older Phineas said. “Making people happy was all that really mattered to me.”

“What changed?” the ghost asked.

“I became an adult. I had responsibilities.”

The ghost twitched its fingers, and they were elsewhere. He recognized the office of Flynn & Fletcher Technologies, and himself, aged twenty-four. It was Christmas Eve, and he was still working, trying to find a way to keep people from stealing their biggest invention. They’d had a hit with the wood-metal fuser, but cheap imported knock-offs had kept it from making them quite as wealthy as he’d hoped.

Isabella came in the door, and older Phineas breathed in sharply. She was angry, and he knew why.

“Phineas!” she said. "We need to get going if we're going to make it to your parents' for Christmas Eve."

Phineas looked up from his laptop. He was emailing back and forth with the firm's lawyers in Hong Kong, working out a way to shut down the biggest producer of knock-off fusers.

"I need to finish this up. Shouldn't take more than half an hour."

"That's what you said two hours ago, Phineas. Why is this so important right now?"

"If I'm ever going to support a wife and a family," younger Phineas said, looking up at Isabella, "I need to make sure we're financially secure."

"You've got enough money for that now. We need to get going."

Phineas sighed, running his hands through his shaggy red hair. "Go on without me. I'll catch up."

Isabella glared at him, then turned and stomped out, slamming the door behind her.

Older Phineas watched as younger Phineas went back to his laptop.

"You never did catch up, did you?" the spirit asked.

"No. Two weeks later, she broke up with me. I'd been planning to ask her to marry me, as soon as I had the finances sorted out. The ring was in my desk drawer." A bit sadly, he added, "It's still there, actually."

The ghost twitched again, but the scene looked the same. Phineas was at the same desk, working on the same laptop. Older Phineas looked at the spirit.

“One year later,” the spirit said, and older Phineas winced, knowing what was coming.

The office door opened, and Ferb came through, glaring at Phineas.

Phineas looked up. “Sorry. Just got busy. I swear, these copycats are like playing whack-a-mole with a hydra. Smash one and two more pop up.”

“You’re going about it wrong,” Ferb said. “And I wanted you there tonight for a reason, you know.”

“Sorry. What was the reason?”

“I asked Vanessa to marry me, and she said yes.”

Phineas sighed deeply. “Congratulations, Ferb. You’re a lucky man.”

“It might not be too late to get Isabella back,” Ferb said.

“I need to have the money lined up first, Ferb. I just need to make sure I have enough to provide financial security for a family.”

“Phineas, you’re going about that all wrong. We could be making much more money if you spent your time inventing instead of as an amateur lawyer. We’ve got enough now that you could retire and never have to work again. Go call Isabella before it’s too late.”

“Ferb, trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

Ferb shook his head. “That’s what I’m afraid of, Phineas. I can’t do this any more. If this is how you’re going to spend your time, I’m going to start my own company. I need to invent, and if you aren’t going to help, then I’ll do it without you.”

Phineas sat back, shocked. “You can’t do that! We’re Flynn & Fletcher! The modern Edisons!”

Ferb shrugged. “I always liked Tesla better anyway. I’m done with this, Phineas.” With that, he turned and walked out the door.

Phineas shook his head, muttered, “He’ll be back,” and turned back to his laptop.

Older Phineas took a deep breath. “He was right, you know. Fletcher Enterprises is ten times the size of Flynn Technologies. I didn’t know what I was doing after all.”

The spirit nodded at him. “And you never did call Isabella.”

“No. She got married to some guy she worked with. Two kids. Last I heard, they were happy.”

They were back in Phineas’s bedroom. “Here I leave you,” the spirit said. “You know how the story goes from here.”

Phineas nodded. “Christmas Present.”

But the spirit was already gone, leaving Phineas alone. He fell into his bed, wonderIng what he could have done differently.


	3. Christmas Present

Phineas was dozing lightly when a loud, “Ho ho ho!” woke him up. He sat up, surprised to find Santa himself sitting at the foot of the bed.

“You weren’t who I was expecting,” Phineas said. “I figured you’d be busy tonight. You’re the Spirit of Christmas Present?”

Santa shrugged. “I can spare a little time helping you out here. What happened to you, Phineas?”

“I grew up.”

“So did everyone else, but they didn’t all turn this...bitter. You were the most cheerful, giving child it was ever my pleasure to work with. What happened?”

Phineas sighed deeply. “I screwed up. And then I didn’t know how to fix it without screwing it up worse.

“I was in love with Isabella. And I wanted to make everything perfect for her. Make sure she’d never want for anything. I spent so much time trying to keep from losing money that I lost her instead.”

Santa nodded. “Come. Let’s go see the state of the world today. First on the list: Ferb and Vanessa’s house.”

Phineas started as they walked through his bedroom door, and into somewhere else.

Somehow Phineas knew it was still Christmas Eve here. Ferb looked older, white just starting to lighten his hair at the temples. He was sitting on the couch reading on his tablet while Vanessa lay with her feet in his lap, checking her email.

“Apparently Candace ran into Phineas today,” Vanessa said.

Ferb didn’t appear to react.

“She said he’s the same as ever. She offered to have him over tomorrow morning so he could have a Christmas without...well, without you, although she didn’t put it that way. He said he’d think about it.”

“He won’t come,” Ferb said, then took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I still wonder if I could have saved him if I’d just held on a little longer.”

“If losing Isabella wasn’t enough to pull him out of it, I don’t know what was.”

Ferb nodded. “He’s made his own life now.”

“Or lack thereof.”

Ferb smiled at her. “Or lack thereof.”

Their twelve-year-old daughter, Elizabeth, looked up from where she was curled up in a rocking chair with a book. She idly swiped her long green hair out of her eyes and said, “I’ve still never seen this hypothetical Phineas person. You keep telling me he exists.”

Her brother, Everett, younger by eight minutes, laughed from his seat on the floor where he was playing a video game. “There’s pictures of the head of Flynn Technologies. Unless Dad planted the pictures to trick us.”

Phineas looked over at Santa. “He still cares. Even after everything I said to him. Why?”

Santa said, simply, “He’s your brother.”

Phineas watched the family tableau for a moment before Santa took his hand and led him back through the doorway.

On the other side of the door, it was Christmas morning at the Johnson household. Candace, her face starting to gain a few wrinkles, sat on the couch and gratefully accepted a mug of coffee from Jeremy as he joined her. Xavier was busily sorting out the presents under the tree and handing them out to the family as Fred sat next to him.

“They’ve grown so much,” Phineas said. “I haven’t seen them since they were ten or so. Now they’re in college.”

“You’ve missed a lot,” Santa said. “Was it worth it?”

Phineas could only shake his head sadly.

“This one’s for you, Ambrose!” Xavier said, handing a wrapped package to the unfamiliar young man sitting on the floor. From his position, leaning against Amanda’s legs, Phineas guessed he was the new husband Candace had mentioned.

Candace kept looking at the door and sighing. Jeremy put his arm around her, and said, “He’s probably not coming, you know.”

“I know,” she said sadly. “I just...he said he’d think about it. It’s the most positive thing I’ve gotten out of him since...I don’t know when.”

“I don’t know what happened to him, Candace, but he’s not the same Phineas I remember from when he was a kid. Just let him go.”

“I can’t. He’s my little brother. I’d fight anyone or anything for him, if I just knew who to fight.”

“She would, too,” Phineas whispered.

“You can’t save him from himself,” Jeremy said. “Only he can do that.”

“Come, we have one more stop, and not much time,” Santa said, leading him through the door.

Somehow Phineas knew it was Christmas Eve again, and his breath caught.

Isabella kissed her nine-year-old son on the top of his head and sent him to bed, saying, “The sooner you go to sleep, the sooner it’s Christmas morning.”

Dave, her husband, poked his head out of the bathroom, laughing. “What was that all about?”

“Isaac wanted to know if he could get into the presents yet. I told him no.”

She climbed into bed as Phineas watched, his mouth dry. Turning to Santa, he asked, “Is she happy?”

“Happy’s a relative term. She’s coping with her life, but she does wish it had gone differently.”

Dave came out of the bathroom, dressed for a night out. “You really don’t mind me going and seeing Shannon tonight?” he asked.

Isabella looked up with a friendly smile. “No, just be back in time for the kids to wake us up and drag us out to unwrap presents.”

“Thanks, Iz,” he said, heading out the back door from their bedroom to the outside. Isabella gave him a wistful look before picking up her book from the bedside table.

“...wha?” Phineas asked.

“They got married because she got pregnant with Isaac’s older sister, Sarah. Dave was in an ‘off’ phase of an on-again, off-again relationship with Shannon at the time. When their marriage broke down, they decided to stay together for the kids. Once a week or so, he goes out and spends some time with Shannon. Isabella knows, and...is happy for them, usually.”

“Does...Isabella have anyone like Shannon?”

Santa looked him square in the face. “No. She has her children, and is still friends with Dave. But she doesn't have a lover of her own. She never really looked for one. She's decided she's just bad at relationships.”

Phineas’s eyes closed.

“Before you ask,” Santa said, “I’ll answer. No, I don’t think she wants to see you. It hurts too much.”

“I wouldn’t have thought she would,” Phineas whispered. “Take me home, Santa. I’ve seen enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ambrose, Amanda’s husband, is named for Amanda’s father (!) in karly05’s stories.
> 
> In the original Dickens story, the Spirit of Christmas Present is similar to Father Christmas. I decided to cut out the middleman and make it Santa.


	4. Christmas Yet To Come

Phineas awoke from a light doze to find a hooded spirit hovering over him.

“Christmas Yet To Come, I presume?” Phineas said.

The spirit nodded.

“I don’t suppose I have any choice in the matter here.”

The spirit shook its head.

Phineas took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Let’s do this, then.”

Mists swirled around them, and they stood at an open grave. Phineas saw his family lined up to one side, dressed in mourning. Linda and Lawrence supported each other. Ferb was trying to look stoic, but Phineas could see the emotions rippling beneath the surface, sadness and anger in equal measure. Vanessa rested a hand on his shoulder; Phineas couldn’t tell if it was reassurance, or holding him back. Or both.

Candace...Phineas couldn’t look at Candace. It was too painful to watch his big sister reduced to tears at that level. She was sobbing into Jeremy’s shoulder uncontrollably as her husband held her, trying to comfort her.

Behind them, the kids were talking quietly to each other; they looked just a couple years older than when he’d last seen them. Elizabeth and Everett looked fourteen or so; Amanda stood next to Ambrose, who was holding a baby that couldn’t be a full year old, while Xavier had a dark-skinned young man standing beside him, on the opposite side of Fred.

“How did he die?” Fred asked. “He was so young.”

“Mom said it might have been poor nutrition,” Xavier said. “Apparently they went into his house and all he had there for food was ramen. She said he’d probably died of scurvy.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “He didn’t die of scurvy. Dad was saying...he just didn’t have anything to live for anymore. The wood-metal fuser patent he’d spent so much time fighting to protect had just expired. His other patents weren’t worth nearly as much. He’d lost his love, he’d left his family. There was just nothing left to keep him alive.”

"Who was he in love with?" Everett asked. "From everything I've heard, he doesn't really seem like the type."

"Aunt Isabella," Amanda said. "I can just barely remember before she broke up with him. Just before your parents got engaged."

"Wait. Uncle Phineas had a thing for Sarah's mom?" Everett asked, shaking his head.

The conversation tailed off for a few minutes before the young man with Xavier asked, “What happened to the rest of the patents?”

“They went to my Dad, since he's still technically part-owner of Flynn Technologies,” Elizabeth said. “Uncle Phineas never had the money to completely buy out his share. Dad said he’s planning to open the patents up to the world.”

“Uncle Phineas would have hated that,” Amanda said.

“That’s at least part of why Dad’s doing it,” Everett said with a smirk.

The hearse drove up, and Phineas’s coffin was placed in the grave. The mourners dispersed, off to get their heads together before a sad Christmas Eve. Phineas sat on the edge of his grave and thought, the spirit patiently waiting behind him.

A car drove quietly up, and Isabella got out. Tears in her eyes, she stood before the grave. Phineas went to comfort her, but his hand went through her, and she shivered as if suddenly chilled.

“I told Ferb I wasn’t going to come when he called me,” she said to the grave. “And yet here I am.”

She stared at the grave for a few moments, silently, and Phineas hovered nearby.

“Damn you, Phineas,” she said bitterly. “Damn you for throwing away everything you had. Everything we had. Everything you could have done for the world.”

She paused, fighting back her tears. “I loved you, Phineas. And then I hated you. And now...I’m just done with you. Looking at this...I realize that the Phineas I loved died years ago. It’s just taken this long for your body to catch up.

“Goodbye, Phineas.”

Phineas turned to the spirit as Isabella drove away. “Take me back. I've learned what I needed to.”

Mists swirled again, and Phineas was alone in his bedroom.

_Fortunately, I know a few tricks that Ol’ Ebenezer couldn’t have ever thought of._

He looked at the clock, which read 3:14 AM.

 _Plenty of time,_ he thought. _I know what I’m going to do tonight._


	5. Christmas Past Redux

Phineas set the destination time on the time travel belt carefully - if he did this right, he should arrive about 10 minutes before Isabella came in to check on him. He’d cobbled it together from parts lying around the house; it wasn’t very good, but it just needed to hold together for a few minutes. Somehow he knew that it was important he go back before sunrise, so this was the best he could do under the circumstances. He took a deep breath and pushed the button, and with a _*crackle*_ he was back, sixteen years ago, on Christmas Eve.

A younger version of him, sitting at his desk, typing into his laptop, suddenly looked up. “You’re me?” he asked, suspiciously.

“I’m you, age forty. Your time travel passphrase is ‘serendipitous sequipedalianity’.”

Younger Phineas sat up. “Okay, you’re really me. What’s up?”

“I need you to pull your head out of your ass.”

“Excuse me?”

“Isabella’s going to come in here in,” he checked the belt readout, “eight and a half minutes. If you don’t go with her, _you are going to lose her._ ”

“I’m just trying to make sure we’re financially secure...”

“Stuff it. You _are_ financially secure. Now make sure you’re _emotionally_ secure. I don’t need to ask if you love her - I’ve _been_ you, I _know_. Make sure _she_ knows it.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do.”

“Then you’re doing it wrong. There’s a ring in your desk. Give it to her. Tonight.”

“But what about...”

“Is your brain better off being used doing this penny-ante lawyering, or inventing new things? You can make a hundred times more money by just inventing something new and letting the copycats try to catch up.”

“But I can’t let them win.”

“You’re going to lose it all. It got so bad that I got the Christmas Carol treatment.”

Younger Phineas sat up and said, “Wait, what?”

“You know, three spirits, Christmas Past, Present, and Yet To Come? Nobody really missed me at my funeral. They missed you, because you aren't me yet.”

A warning beep on the time travel belt caught both their attention.

Phineas looked at his younger self. “I need to go, this thing is only good for four minutes. Sorry, best I could do in a hurry. This is important so you don’t end up like me. _Do it._ ”

With another _*crackle*_ , he found himself back in his dark bedroom. Looking around, he saw that nothing had changed.

_I failed. I didn’t listen to myself._

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention; he looked up to see the walls waving as the time ripples from the past caught up with him. The distortion crashed into him, and the world went black.


	6. Christmas Day

Phineas woke up with a start; the room was dark, with just a sliver of morning light creeping through the window. Two sets of memories warred in his head, but which was real?

He heard a soft sound from the other side of the bed. Turning over, he saw shoulder-length black hair covering the other pillow. Isabella twitched in her sleep, and whimpered again, as if in a bad dream.

He slid over behind her and put his arm around her, as one set of memories said he’d done for years. She rolled over, still mostly asleep, and buried her face in his shoulder, seeking contact with him.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “I’m here.”

Her eyes snapped open as she leaned back, looking at him, and relief washed over her face.

“Nightmare?” he asked.

She nodded, clinging to him. “You were gone, and I was married to Dave - _Dave_ , of all people - and he was cheating on me with Shannon, because of course he would, it's _Shannon_. But it wasn’t really cheating because I knew about it and it was that or divorce, and we didn’t want to do that because of the kids...” She shuddered, and he stroked her hair.

The other timeline was fading like a bad dream from his own mind. _The change worked!_ He thought back to years ago, the moment he’d suddenly been confronted by himself. He’d been in his office, working, and then an older him had arrived and told him to save his relationship with Isabella before it was too late.

He’d hemmed and hawed over it for a few minutes, and then Isabella had stormed in, angry.

“Phineas!” she’d said. "We need to get going if we're going to make it to your parents' for Christmas Eve."

He’d looked at her, made up his mind to trust himself, and closed his laptop. “Just one minute,” he’d said. “There’s one thing I need to do first.” He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a small box.

She’d looked stunned that he’d closed the laptop, then eyed him suspiciously. “What’s the one thing?”

“Actually, two things,” he’d said. “First, I need to apologize. I’ve been a fool. I’m wasting time playing lawyer when I should be inventing things...or spending time with the most important person in my life. I’m sorry. I’ll do better.

“Second, I need to ask you this.” Falling to one knee in front of her, and revealing the ring inside the box, he’d asked, “Isabella...will you marry me?”

She’d turned him down. “No. Not yet. Don’t think you can ignore me and treat me like I’m more of a bother than a girlfriend, and then you can give me a ring and it’s all better. Show me that you’re serious.”

It wasn’t until then that he’d realized just how close he really had come to losing her. Any doubts he may have had about the warnings from his future self were gone. It had taken him months to convince her that this was for real and not just a brief change of heart. He had proposed again in July, on her birthday, and this time, she had accepted.

At Ferb's suggestion, they'd cut the licensing cost enough that they could work with the largest makers of knock-offs, bringing them into the fold and doubling the number of licensed fusers sold. Between that and the new inventions they’d created together, it was Flynn & Fletcher Technologies' biggest year ever to that point.

Isabella had married him the following Christmas Eve, and Ferb had proposed to Vanessa at their reception.

Christmas Eve had become a special day to the two of them, and it wasn’t at all coincidence that their daughters were all born in late September or early October. They’d celebrated their fifteenth anniversary last night with their traditional dinner of Chinese food.

He pondered the waste of the other timeline as he gently ran his hand down her back, holding onto her as she calmed down from her nightmare. “I love you,” he said, part of him still amazed to find her here.

She smiled up at him. “I love you too. Always. Merry Christmas.”

He leaned in to kiss her gently, and she responded forcefully, pulling him into a deep and passionate kiss.

They were interrupted by a pounding on the bedroom door. “Mom! Dad! It’s Christmas!”

Laughing as she broke the kiss, Isabella sat up and shouted back, “Come on in, girls.”

The door opened and six-year-old Miriam burst in, jumping up onto their bed. “It’s Christmas! We need to go open presents!” she said, excitedly. Her sisters, nine-year-old Rachel and twelve-year-old Becky, followed more slowly; Rachel looked only slightly less excited than Miriam, while Becky was trying to look like a nonchalant teen, and almost managing it.

“Go,” Isabella said. “You can go see what Santa put in your stockings. We’ll be down in a couple minutes.”

With a cheer, the three girls raced out of the room and down the stairs.

* * *

Phineas looked around at their living room. He remembered all of this - buying this house with Isabella when she was pregnant with Becky, putting up the tree three weeks ago, the Hanukkah celebration that had ended three nights ago, hanging the girls' stockings last night before they went to bed - and yet it all felt new. He was sure that would wear off soon enough; his memories of the other timeline were just a hazy dream now. By tomorrow, this would be the way the world always had been.

“Okay, girls. Let’s clean up the mess, and then you can play with your presents until it’s time to go to Abuela’s, okay?” Phineas said, standing up and starting to gather up stray pieces of wrapping paper.

They quickly cleaned up the mess in the living room, and the girls settled down with their favorites among their new presents: Becky was already chatting with Dave and Shannon’s oldest daughter on her new tablet, Rachel was drawing on a new sketch pad, and Miriam was busily assembling a spaceship from her new set of Legos.

Phineas sat with Isabella at the kitchen table, enjoying a cup of coffee and a cinnamon roll. He looked over at her, took a deep breath, and quietly said, “I have a confession to make.”

She cocked her head in inquiry.

“That bad dream you had...it wasn’t just a dream. It was a bad timeline. It was real.”

Her eyebrows went up. “Really? What changed? I don’t remember the dream too clearly any more.”

“You remember the first time I proposed?”

She nodded, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Just before then, I got a visit from me, this age, from the other timeline. And he told me to...well, stop being an idiot, and let you know how important to me you are. So I proposed. And when you said no...that was when I realized that future me was right. I was so close to losing you...and that would be the worst thing I could do.”

She sat back, looking at him. “I had decided if you didn’t shape up by the end of the year, I was done. You cut it a little close there.” She smiled at him fondly. “But it worked out. I’m glad you fixed it. I’m much happier this way. And I think Dave’s a lot happier with Shannon than...,” she trailed off, shuddering.

“I’m sorry I ever let it get that bad between us.”

She reached over and took his hand. “Just promise me you’ll never let things get so bad you need to time travel to fix them again.”

“I promise.”

* * *

They’d gone to Abuela’s for lunch, where there Just Happened to be late Hanukkah presents waiting for the girls, and then across the street to Gramma and Grampa’s house for the Flynn-Fletcher family Christmas.

As they walked in, Candace looked up at him from the couch, then rushed over to give him a hug. “You made it,” she said. “Sorry. Of course you did. I just...” She looked up at him, confused. “I just needed to do that.”

He held on to her for a long moment. “Thank you, Candace. For everything. And...I mean _everything_.”

“I don’t know what I did...but you’re welcome.”

“I’ll explain later.”

He greeted Amanda’s new husband, asking how things were going with them; Rachel had been flower girl at their wedding. Fred and Xavier were sitting off on a couch, and Miriam ran over to them to ask them about the latest thing they’d built, ignoring the presents under the tree.

Ferb and Vanessa showed up shortly afterwards, Elizabeth and Everett in tow. Elizabeth and Becky started to run off to talk, but Vanessa told them they needed to wait until after presents were unwrapped. They rolled their eyes in unison as Everett and Rachel started handing presents out to people. Phineas looked around at the crowded room - seventeen people in this one living room, filling the couches and chairs and floor. His mother looked around at them all, obviously thrilled to have her whole family there for Christmas.

Everett handed him a card, saying, “This was under the tree for you,” then turned away to hand out more presents. In a clear hand, someone had written, “Phineas Flynn” on it, so he opened it, finding a short note.

**Dear Phineas,**

**It’s always awkward when you have to give yourself a gift, but ultimately nobody else could give you this one. But in its own way, this was a gift from many, to many, as well. From God, and Candace, and me, and the Spirits, and you; to you, and Isabella, and Ferb, and Candace, and Linda and Lawrence, and my wonderful granddaughters, and many more worldwide.**

**Merry Christmas, son. You’ve earned it.**

**Timothy Flynn**

Nobody else seemed to have noticed the note, and as Phineas watched, it dissolved into a cloud of sparkles that quickly faded.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we add another to my tally of ‘ways to have Phineas and Isabella wake up together with at least one of them not expecting it’.
> 
> Yes, I know, time-travel to fix things is cheating horribly. You try telling Phineas he can’t do that. He insisted. Personally, I feel like a Star Trek writer hitting the reset button.
> 
> This thing took over my brain and Would Not Let Go. Which is why it got written in September.
> 
> I wish to thank everyone who’s read this and any others of my stories. One year ago today, I started releasing Back In Time for Dinner, the first story I’d ever published in any way. It’s been an incredible year, and there’s more stories to come. Thank you all so much.


End file.
